


all this bad blood here

by orphan_account



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Ableist Language, Bipolar Disorder, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, M/M, by kind of i mean completely, gun use, lars is kind of a dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:32:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'The watcher stops scratching at the pad and levels a look at Hermann. He’s significantly shorter, even with his riduculous pompadour and lifted boots. Tight jeans sit below an equally tight dress shirt, revealing a small curve of the man’s inked stomach where it’s come untucked. Hermann glances at the man’s frazzled and bloodied state; his twitching fingers and thrumming energy. He already dislikes him.</p><p>“Doctor Newton Geiszler; call me Newt,” he says in his high pitched, American accented voice. He flips a few pages back in his notepad before he continues. “And you’re Doctor Hermann Gottlieb, son of Division direction Lars Gottlieb, a Pusher on the run from said organization, and from what I’ve seen of you in my visions, kind of a total ass.”'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter one

The sound of a frantic knock on the door is what drags Hermann out of sleep. Immediately he tenses and reaches for the .45 he keeps in his desk. Division wouldn’t bother knocking if they found him, but it never hurts to be safe. He treads out of his bedroom towards the front door lightly, ignoring the twinge in his leg. The knocking still hasn’t stopped by the time he peers through the peephole in his door. Standing on the other side is a disheveled looking man in a bloodied leather jacket and cracked glasses. Hermann stands back and considers. He’s never seen the man before and he looks nothing like a Division crony in that ridiculous outfit. Clutching the gun in his right hand, he moves to unlock the door with his left. If anything goes south, he’ll just wipe the guy’s brain back to factory settings.

 

The second he opens the door, the scrawny guy ducks under Hermann’s outstretched arm and scurries into his tiny flat. Fuck. It’s been too long since he’s been in a fight and his reaction time isn’t what it used to be. None the less, he turns around, the door slamming shut behind him, and trains the barrel of the gun at the man’s forehead. “You’ve got thirty seconds to explain yourself before I ruin my upholstery with your brain matter,” he grunts. The man looks up from his spot a few feet away and snorts, returning to scrawling furiously on a pad of paper in his hands. 

 

“Yeah, I’ve seen what happens if you shoot me here, Gottlieb, and I’m gonna have to say, you wouldn’t like the outcome,” he says flippantly as if there’s not a gun in close proximity to his face.  Hermann doesn’t let himself feel the shock threatening to dull his senses; of course this guys a watcher. They’ve all got this stupid starving artist vibe about them, and this guy is no different. “Who are you?” 

 

The watcher stops scratching at the pad and levels a look at Hermann. He’s significantly shorter, even with his riduculous pompadour and lifted boots. Tight jeans sit below an equally tight dress shirt, revealing a small curve of the man’s inked stomach where it’s come untucked. Hermann glances at the man’s frazzled and bloodied state; his twitching fingers and thrumming energy. He already dislikes him.

 

“Doctor Newton Geiszler; call me Newt,” he says in his high pitched, American accented voice. He flips a few pages back in his notepad before he continues. “And you’re Doctor Hermann Gottlieb, son of Division direction Lars Gottlieb, a Pusher on the run from said organization, and from what I’ve seen of you in my visions, kind of a total ass.” He turns the pad so that Hermann can see the drawing on it. It’s...well, he’s not 100% sure what it’s supposed to be but there’s two stick figures, what appears to be a suitcase, and...a mushroom? 

 

“Is that a _mushroom_?” Newton glances down at the pad and frowns, his glasses shifting precariously on his nose. “No! It’s an explosion, man. Whatever, I’ll explain. I need you to help me find this suitcase so we can take down Division.” Hermann raises an eyebrow; Newton sighs and continues.

 

“They had me in their Berlin base for a while, but I managed to get out. I was about to buy a ticket straight to Boston to lay low with my buddy there for a while when I got hit with this vision.” He motions to his ridiculous drawing. “I saw the two of us finding this suitcase and using whatever the fuck is in it to metaphorically blow the top off of Division once and for all. So, I boarded the next plane to HKG and here I am.” Hermann lowers his gun a fraction, head spinning as he tries to process the words spilling out of Newton’s mouth.

 

“There’s no way the two of us could take down the whole organization alone. Anyway, I’m retired and out of practice. How did you even find me?” Newton blinks aT him owlishly and cracks a grin. 

 

“For starters, Division is failing. The UN’s interests have shifted from freaks like us now that most of us are dead anyway. Their funding is on the chopping board. I was their last hope to regain the UN’s faith, but I sort of botched that when I escaped. Also, you’re not that hard to find. I’ve got a friend based here who likes to keep tabs on his fellow lab rats. I’m surprised nobody’s found you before this.” Hermann grunts and opens the door behind him. 

 

“Like I said, I’m retired,” he says, spitting emphasis on ‘retired’. “They have no interest in me any longer, as long as I don’t draw much attention. Which has probably been ruined by your arrival, as you’ve proclaimed themselves as their number one target. I have to ask you to leave, now. I’ll have nothing to do with this wild goose chase of yours.” 

 

He watches Newton’s face fall as if he hadn’t considered the possibility that Hermann might refuse. The smaller man shifts his weight around nervously from foot to foot. “Look,” he starts, his voice softer and lower than it had been before. “I know this all sounds crazy, trust me. But I need you to believe me. We have the chance to take these bastards out forever, man. I don’t have to explain the significance of that to you.” Hermann fixes his gaze intently on Newton’s face, intending to give off vibes akin to ‘please, leave my fucking flat’. 

 

Newton sighs and stretches his arm up to run through his horrendous hair, and that’s when Hermann knows that he’s truly fucked. Right on Newton’s left hip, where the fabric shifts up, is the image of a lotus, tattooed on pale flesh. He does a double take. “Is that...?” Newt scrunches his face up before he glances down at his tattoo. A ghost of a soft smile appears on his face.

 

“It’s a lotus. My mom...she loved them. I wanted something to remind me of her, y’know? So I wouldn’t forget her. I never really knew her that well, but...” he trails off. Hermann takes in a shaky breath, suddenly a child again.

 

He’s four, going on five, in his nanny’s arms as his parents scream in the background. She smoothes his hair and whispers soothingly into his ear. They’ve been fighting more often recently. Later, he’ll learn that it’s because his mother had grown sick of his father’s obsession with his work. He’d moved them into a family sized dorm on base so that they could be closer, but he rarely saw either of his parents anyway.

 

He burrows his head into his nanny’s neck and inhales her sweet perfume. Then he’s seven, and she’s tending to the scrapes on his knees. “Those boys know nothing,  _süßling_. Do not pay them any attention,” she coos as she presses kisses to the gauze covering his wounds. He smiles through his tears and wraps his arms around her neck. 

 

“ _Ich liebe dich_ , Moni,” he whispers into her hair. Now he’s twelve and the world around him is collapsing. Moni holds him tight; he can feel her tears wetting his hair. 

 

“Listen, _süßling, lauschen_. I have to go away.” He can hear a pounding at the door, can hear his father shouting through it. “Monica,” he screams. “ _Öffnen Sie die Tür, jetzt_.” She leans back, holding his face in her hands. 

 

“I have to go, but remember this. Remember the picture I showed you?” He sees the image of a pink flower in his head. “Don’t forget that. One day, in a long long time, you will meet a boy- a man and you need to trust him. Do you hear me? I need you to listen,” she says over the sounds of a scuffle outside.

 

Hermann holds back his tears and nods. “He will have the flower with him, and that is how you will know, okay? _Süßling_?” He nods again, rapidly. “Good,” she breathes. She presses a kiss to his forehead as the door finally snaps off it’s hinges. He knows better than to fight when the men pull her away, but his father’s gaze never leaves him. 

 

He comes back to himself, still staring at the bottom of Newton’s round stomach. “You still in there, dude?” His gaze snaps up to Newton’s face, which is contorted into a half-worrying, half-confused fiasco of an expression. Hermann grunts and uses his good hip to check the door closed. 

 

“What was her name?” Newton’s expression grows more confused, but he answers slowly anyway. “Monica.” Hermann runs his free hand down his face.

 

“I trust you.” Newton’s face lights up like a child’s on Christmas. He launches into a spiel that makes Hermann regret his decision immediately. “Oh man, this is great. I had no idea what I was gonna do for a minute there. Now that that’s solved, we need to talk about---”

 

“Newton,” Hermann interrupts. Newton looks up from where he’d begun to flip frantically through his notepad. “I have...one condition.” The other man nods violently. “Yeah, sure man, whatever. That’s fine. What is it?” He pauses.

 

“I am the one to kill my father.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which we see new faces, some good and some bad  
> also newt continues his quest to win 'world's biggest shitbaby' uWu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: gun violence, blood, ear trauma, and nosebleeds

Hermann scowls as he watches Newt dig into his bowl of noodles. Even in a place as dingy as the outdoor market, it stands out as rude to Hermann. He muses that Newt must have been a terror growing up, and spares a smile thinking of Monica. “Honestly, that was a lot easier than I was expecting,” Newt says through a mouth full. Hermann smile drops.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth, you child. Shouldn’t you have seen it all beforehand,” he gripes as he pushes his rather full bowl away from him. Newt snorts after finishing the last of his meal. “I get details wrong sometimes, but the big picture is always there. I knew you’d say yes, I just didn’t really know I’d get you to. Mostly I improv.”

“That seems dangerous,” Hermann comments as he slaps thirty yuan on the table and stands up. Newt sends him a beaming smile for the favor and Hermann almost wants to fall victim to it’s contagion-like effect. 

“It can be, but I’ve gotten better recently.” Hermann makes a questioning noise, but is only made with a hand wave from his companion. He tucks the discussion into the back of his mind for later review and continues down the street of the market. A few minutes into their easy stroll, Hermann turns back to question Newt but stops short. 

Newt is a few feet behind him, face blank and eyes glazed. Hermann recognizes the look, and starts towards him. The younger man’s body lists to the right suddenly, and Hermann has to rush to his side to keep him upright. He grunts at the added weight on his leg as he props Newt up. Hermann spares a look around, but nobody has noticed. The bumbling market around them is either too busy to be bothered, or used to such strangeness. 

He looks back down at Newt. There’s a bead of dark red blood rolling slowly down his join, which turns into a slow stream of liquid. A minute later Newt blinks, coming back to himself and blinking groggily up at Hermann. 

Suddenly he straightens out of Hermann’s grasp, eyes flickering around them nervously. Hermann tries to follow his gaze, but nothing around them is suspicious or out of place. “Shit, man we’ve gotta go,” Newt says, his head turning rapidly looking for an escape route. 

He starts forwards, back the way they came. “What in the bloody hell did you see,” Hermann hisses at him. Newt suddenly steers them to the left, down a long dark alley. “One of the street gangs loyal to Division is here, in the market. Th-there’s gotta be at least five, probably more, I couldn’t tell. Most likely Bleeders. They’ve got a Watcher too, so we can’t go back to your apartment. Don’t make an decisions, just move,” he says as they make their way into the darkness. 

“I know how this works, Newton, what I don’t know is why they are following us. Exactly how important are you Division? Enough that they’d send out hit men for us, apparently” Hermann grunts.

“I’ll tell you later, man. For now we’ve just gotta--” Newt cuts off suddenly. Hermann looks away from him to see what caught his attention. Five or so menacing men are gathered at the exit of the alleyway. A small woman appears from behind the group, a cheshire grin plastered on her face. Hermann motions to grab for the gun in his pocket, hoping that the odds are in their favor and the gang is unarmed. 

“Uh-uh! I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the woman says in a heavy accent. She playfully winks at him before slipping a lollipop in between her dark red lips. “You,” she says staring Hermann down. “Let us have the little one without a fight and we’ll let you live.” He can feel Newt tense next to him. They lock eyes. Newt’s shaking, fear present in his eyes as he looks at Hermann with a pleading expression. 

“Ma’am, there’s been a misunderstanding. We want no trouble from you. However, I cannot simply ‘give you’ this man. I owe him a debt.” Newt’s eyebrows scrunch quizzically. She laughs at them dismissively. 

“I’m sure you do,” she says as she spares a glance to the man next to her while slipping something into her ears. He nods and takes a step towards them, his mouth dropping open. Hermann quickly presses his hands to his ears, trying to drown out the inevitable attack. It’s not enough though; the man’s screams pierce their heads like a gunshot. Hermann can’t sense anything other than the splitting pain in his head and the pressure behind his eyes. He slumps to the ground, grunting as he lands on his good hip. Seconds later his body gives out and he slips into the darkness. 

 

 

 

 

He wakes up to somebody shaking his shoulder furiously. Hermann opens his eyes slowly and looks into the face attached to the offending shaker. He lets out a sigh of relief when he recognizes the man. 

“Not lookin’ so good, buddy,” Tendo says as he heaves Hermann into an upright position and hands him a handkerchief. Hermann dabs the cloth on his face, grimacing as wipes away the semi-dried blood. He casts a glance to his left, where Newt is slowly trying to do the same with shaking hands.

“You guys are lucky I happened to be in the market and heard the screams. How’d you get yourselves mixed up with the local gangs?” 

“Got something Division wants,” Newt mutters as he finishes cleaning his face. He hands Tendo his handkerchief back with a weary smile. He pauses for a second before speaking, his fingers tapping an uneven tempo on his thigh. “I-uh. It’s me. That they want. It’s me. They...you know that they’ve been experimenting for a long time. They want to find a serum that can increase our powers, but it keeps killing everybody they try it on. When they caught me in Berlin, they wanted me to help them refine it. When I refused they,” he stops again, pulling his bottom lip between his lips nervously.

“They tried it on me.” Tendo whistles a long, low note before shaking his head. “I’m not sure why I’m alive. I think my heart stopped. All I know is that I woke up afterwards, dazed and confused as hell. But there was this, this crazy energy running through me. I wanted to chalk it up to adrenaline, but it’s more than that. I’ve been having visions more frequently ever since. They’ve been longer, more precise, more vivid, even more accurate than ever before.” He lets his head fall back onto the brick wall he’s propped up against. 

“What are we to do,” Hermann asks him, trying to keep the annoyed undertone out of his voice. Newt shrugs, looking terribly distraught. It’s Tendo who finally answers.

“They obviously know you’re here now, buddy. If you wanna get through the next few days alive, you better find yourself a Shadow. I know one pretty well, but he’s not gonna want to help you. Luckily he owes me one. Here,” Tendo says as he leans down. He grabs a pen from his pocket and snatches Hermann’s hand, scribbling down a few lines. 

“This is his address. Good luck with him, he’s got a reputation for being...not easily persuaded.” Tendo levels a look down the alley. “You’re lucky I found you guys, Hermann. If I hadn’t shot that damn Bleeder when I had, you’d probably both be dead,” he says. He stands back up and wipes the imaginary dust off his slacks. “I wish I could help you boys, but I’ve got a family.” 

Hermann nods. “I couldn’t ask you for more anyway. Thank you, Tendo.” The lock eyes and with a last serious look, Tendo turns on his heel and walks out of the alley. Hermann sighs and turns to Newt.

“You should have told me.” Newt winces, rubbing his hands up and down his face. 

“I know, man. I’m sorry, I really am. I just needed you to help me and I didn’t think you would if you knew. You can...I understand if you want to leave,” he says uncharacteristically quiet. He fiddles with sleeves of his leather jacket that fall a little too long on his small body. In another moment, it might have made Hermann smile.

“Well, they’ve already seen my face. They know we’re together. It’ll make no sense for me too abandon you now.” Newt turns to him, his face lighting up. 

“Oh shit, you’re the best. I don’t even know what to say, dude.” Hermann rolls his eyes. 

“You could help me up.” Newt scrambles to his feet and grabs Hermann’s cane, handing it to him quickly. Hermann braces himself on it and stands up. “From now on though, you will keep nothing from me, Newton. I am serious.” Newt nods furiously. 

“Totally dude, I get it.” The silence of the alley is piercing, making the tense air between them seem thick with words unsaid. Newt looks past Hermann, mussing his ridiculous hair and taking an awkward step backwards. “How do you know him,” he asks, nodding his head in the direction Tendo departed. 

Hermann turns and walks the opposite direction, the sound of his cane echoing on the pavement. Newt follows quickly. “He’s a local Bleeder whose fond of keeping tabs on the rest of us. His wife, Allison, lovely lady, is a Watcher like yourself. They day I moved into my previous apartment on the outskirts of the city they showed up at my doorstep to great me. It was kind, if a tad unnerving. We keep a semi-regular correspondence as it is.” 

“Huh. I’ve heard of people like us banding together to live in groups, but I’ve always steered clear. Seemed a bit too cult like for me.” 

“That’s probably for the best, anyhow. It’s easier to get caught in such large groups.” The conversation between them fell flat. Newt swallowed, too nervous to talk and yet reluctant not to. They exited the alleyway and began their trek back to Hermann’s apartment. At the edge of the market he gathers the courage.

“So whose the Shadow we’re looking for?” Hermann lifts the hand not gripping his cane towards Newt’s face to let him read it out loud.

“What the hell type of name is Hannibal Chau?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, not beta'd. 
> 
> send me stuff on tumblr and i'll probably fawn over you and ask to be your best friend tbh


End file.
